Elaboration
by champagne-and-razor-blades
Summary: "...he was completely overcome with the cold hard reality that this conversation was absolutely not about the books anymore." Castle and Beckett immerse themselves in Rook and Nikki's love life. Now rated M.
1. Chapter 1

She called just as he was seriously contemplating whether to pick up the phone and dial her number. He answered on the first ring.

"Missing my dulcet tones already, KB?" he murmured, his phone cradled in the hollow he had formed between his shoulder and his cheek.

"No." she protested, and he could just _see_ the expression on her face.

"You were."

"Shut up." Castle smirked at her response, letting his pen drop from between his fingers as he reclined into a more comfortable position on the couch, running his free hand's fingers through his hair before remembering she couldn't actually see him through a phone call.

"So, you called me because..?" he let the end of the sentence curl off into a pointed silence.

"Just... because. I didn't want to sleep, and sleeping is boring anyway, so I decided to call you because-"

"Because you know that not even the subjects of your **wildest** dreams can hold a candle to me?"

"No, because I figured out of all the people I know, you'd be the one who was more likely to be awake and less likely to rage at me for calling at- at half past three in the morning."

"You figured correctly, I'm as awake as anything."

"Any particular reason?" she queried, and he heard her yawn over the phone, imagined those long limbs stretching out through the sheets of her bed.

"I was writing. It was a difficult scene, just refused to write itself." he supplied, feeling slightly uncomfortable considering the nature of what he had been attempting to write, but she _had _asked.

"Nikki Heat being difficult again?"

"More like Rook. I'm used to Nikki being hard to write, but Rook is proving a bit of a challenge lately."

There was a pregnant silence.

"Oh?" she said finally, "Please elaborate." God, when long words rolled off her tongue like that...

"I'm not sure, I think that maybe he just feels like he isn't getting enough back from her to, you know, work with. She's so guarded, and he's not sure how he can get through to her, especially during-"

"Castle."

"Yes?"

"What kind of _scene_ were you writing, exactly?"

"... a sex scene. In an alley."

He could actually feel her rolling her eyes at him through the line.

"Look, they have to do it _occasionally_, and I can't always pull the 'fade to black' line."

Another long silence, and for a moment he thought she had hung up on him, but then she spoke.

"Have you started writing the scene yet?"

"Not really, a few lines, but not much. Why-"

"One of them needs to make a move." the interruption was quiet, but he stopped speaking the minute the first word left her mouth.

"Both of them think that the other one will do it."

"Maybe Nikki's scared. She doesn't know where it would go, if she started it..."

"Oh, I think she'd know **exactly **where it would go..." Castle murmured with a quirk of an eyebrow.

"Not what I meant. She's starting to think maybe it runs a bit deeper than she thought it did a first, that it means more than she'd anticipated. She's scared."

"She's scared. Okay, she's scared. So you propose that-?"

"That Rook should make the first move this time," Beckett replied softly, "Even if it feels like he's doing all the work, like it's a one-sided romance, it's not. She'll make up for it later."

"She will?"

"She will." her voice was surer than it had been a few minutes ago, and for a moment he immersed himself in the **sound** of her, the song of her words.

"Right, then, he makes the first move. He backs her up against the side of the alley-"

"_Pushes _her up against the wall. Something tells me that when she's not being in control, she likes it rough."

"Pushes her up against the wall, and kisses her."

"How?" It wasn't even a word, the way she said it, more like a helpless syllable that frayed into silence.

"What-?" Castle's brow furrowed, a crease forming towards the left of his forehead. There was another pause that was so incredibly, all-encompassingly silent that it almost consumed him.

"How does he kiss her?" Beckett whispered, less than a whisper, as if she was afraid of both the words she was saying and the consequences of saying them. Castle gasped for air, a fish out of water, before he steeled himself.

"Hard. Hard, open mouthed. They both almost died today and he's not wasting any more time."

"She kisses him back, grabs his collar to pull him in closer, because he hasn't been close enough lately and now that she has him, she can't get enough of him." Her voice steadied about halfway through, and he imagined her telling herself that it was alright, because they were talking about Rook and Nikki. Rook and Nikki.

"This is the bit where I get stuck," Castle admitted, "The bit that feels routine, because Rook and Nikki have done this so many times..."

"Maybe," Kate said, "Maybe he just needs to do a little more _research _on what she _likes._"

He inhaled a sharp gasp of air that he desperately hoped she didn't hear. "And- and how would you propose he does that?"

"He could just ask her; she wouldn't mind. She trusts him. She might even tell him that there is a spot, just where her collarbone meets her neck..."

"A sweet spot?"

"A _very _sweet spot." It was then that Rick started to wonder which kick-ass detective they were speaking about here, because something in her voice changed as the words left her mouth, becoming smoother, more confident. Experienced.

"He kisses his way down from her mouth, across her jawline, sucks down the line of her neck - because even though she complains about hickeys, I think she likes them-"

"She does."

"And then he _bites_ down, just above her collarbone, hard enough to leave a mark, hard enough to bruise."

"Her hands would be fisted in his coat, and she'd try to bite back a moan, but he'd hear it anyway. Then she hooks a leg around his waist, pulls him in tighter, tighter..."

"He'd have to fight the urge to buck his hips then, with her leg wrapped around him-"

"-she realizes that he's holding back, being a gentleman, but she doesn't want that, _Castle, _she wants him to be dangerous, so she slides her hands down his back and yanks his hips against hers-"

The use of his name hit him like a red-hot bullet, shocked him into the reality of _oh my god, what are they __doing,_ how is this happening, but he couldn't stop, couldn't stop if those words kept spilling out of her mouth and down the phone... "She can feel how much he **wants **her," his voice cracked on the beginning of 'wants', because he does want her, so badly, he's incredibly lucky she can't see him now- "And even though he can't see it at the moment, he is going to find out exactly how much she wants him..."

"A lot. She wants him a lot, so much that it aches, burns, smoulders everywhere that he touches."

"He smoothes his hands under the back of her shirt, spans the skin, soft under his fingers, because he plans on touching her absolutely _everywhere_ very, very soon-"

She didn't reply for several seconds, during which he observed that her breathing had quickened almost as much as his had. The sound of it was almost ragged, and he was completely overcome with the cold hard reality that this conversation was absolutely _not _ about the books anymore-

The broken silence stretched longer.

"Beckett?"

Another pause, and then she spoke. "Castle, I don't think you have any idea what you do to me."

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><p>So... what'd you think? Please review, if I get enough reviews there will be another chapter :3<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Oh my gosh, I love you people so much. I expected about three reviews, so... thank you ^_^ there's nothing especially graphic but it gets pretty raunchy so I would call this a very, very strong t. If you don't like stuff like that, don't read it.

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><p>The whole world's axis stopping spinning and then shifted.<p>

Everything in the universe now centered around the words that she had just whispered. Words that were powerful enough to make them or break them. Words were what they had met over in the first place.

Beckett listened to him gasp, noticed that although he wasn't talking, the pattern of his breathing was doing anything but slowing down. _Please, please say something._

"I think I might have an idea." he said softly, soft enough that she could pretend he hadn't said it, and she appreciated that. But if they kept talking about them, she wouldn't, she couldn't-

"She wouldn't be able to stand it for long," she continued, unwilling for Nikki and Rook to leave her alone with Castle and his beautiful _words. _"She gets impatient, normally, and he tries to slow her down, to _savor _it-"

"But not tonight." Castle interrupted with- oh my god, it was actually a **growl- **"Tonight, he wants her hard, fast, he wants her shattering around him..."

God, that man has a beautiful voice. So deep and rich that it curls her toes, makes the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight. His voice is dark, like bitter chocolate, a smooth kind of indulgence that makes her head spin around.

"She wants the brick wall digging into her back, his mouth on her neck, she wants to run her hands through her hair just as much as she did the first night she met him."

The words that they are spinning together, despite her best efforts to control them, paint an oh-so-vivid picture in her head, and she had to fight the urge to let her traitorous hands slip under the covers and-

"He kisses her again, can't help himself, he wants her so _much_, and their teeth are clashing, cheeks bumping because neither of them want gentle right now."

"She devours him, runs her tongue across the line of his teeth." Kate's eyes slipped shut, surrendering to the steady flow of images that paraded unbidden through her head. The hand that wasn't pressing the phone to her air fisted itself in the sheets, knuckles turning white with exertion.

"He likes her like this, wild and untamed, like she's letting herself do what she wants instead of holding back all the time... and he lets her know that he likes it, does the little trick with his tongue that she likes - you know the one-"

And she _did_ know the one, in fact she remembered it too, too accurately; the evil little twist of his tongue against hers during the undercover kiss that meant absolutely everything and nothing all at once...

"She bites his bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, then sucks it into her mouth, **hard**, soothing the bite with her tongue-"

"He can't hold on much longer, she's setting him on fire with every move she makes and he is going to _combust_ if he can't have her soon. His fingers trip over the _buttons_ of her shirt, pull them open - a few of them tug off and clatter on the sidewalk but he's past any form of caring..."

"She liked that shirt, but she wants him more than she liked it so she shrugs it off her shoulders, lets it fall to the ground."

"What is she wearing underneath?" he rumbled, his breathing uneven and she swore she could hear his heartbeat racing down the line.

"Black bra, mostly plain; lace around the edges-" that's what she was wearing today, and it's not very Nikki Heat at all, but they haven't said the characters names in a while and she isn't even sure who they're talking about anymore.

"Black lace against her white skin, so hot, so _soft_ and he lowers his mouth to her chest, sucks a hot path across her exposed collarbone, nips lightly at the flushed skin," he interrupts, and she can't help it, this time she _groans _at his words, and surely he had to hear that, because he groans as well, a dark, gutteral, **hot** sound that makes something deep, deep inside of her clench.

"She fists her hands in his hair, holds him there, while she hooks her leg even tighter around his waist, her heel pressing into the back of his thigh-" Kate whispered, completely unable to stop the words from spilling out. Somewhere in this conversation, she had lost control of herself and she was going to stop but- gah. His words. It was too damn good to stop.

"He grabs her hips, lifts her hips and presses her back against the wall, pulls both of her legs to wrap around his waist-"

"It should be uncomfortable, but it isn't, not at all, she's balanced against his thighs and then she relaxes and they're pressed together, so close and so _hard, _and his goddamn mouth is sucking circles on her skin. It's too much but so not enough so she bucks her hips against his, grinds in a tight little circle right **there**." and she can't stop, can't stop can't stop can't stop-

"They fit together so _well, _and they're almost completely fully clothed... for now. His hands slide back to grab her ass, squeeze hard - he's always like her curves, never been able to tear his eyes away from them, in fact-"

"She _likes_ it when he watches her," she croaked, "When his eyes are burning a hot path up her body, and she feels powerful. But she's not teasing, because she has every intention of backing up her flirting. And it doesn't matter how many times this happens, how many times they do this - it is always, always going to feel like the first time." there was a pause filled with them breathing in her words.

"Always." he said, parroting her words back to her, and it shakes her back to reality, to who they are.

They are not Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook.

They are Kate Beckett and- oh my god, she just came this close to having phone sex with Richard freaking Castle.

"I think you have enough material for that scene now?" she squeaks out, and she hadn't even realized her voice had become more seductive, but apparently it had because she noticed as it came back to normal. "Because I should probably.. get to sleep now?"

"I do, Kate, and- okay. See you tomorrow, detective?"

"Tomorrow." she rushed, and then she hung up, throwing her phone on the floor before she acted on the impulse to call him back.

All alone in the darkness with raging hormones and Rick's throaty words on repeat in the back of her mind.

She might have told him otherwise, but she definately was _not _sleeping tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

Their eyes locked across the parking lot where, nearby, a body was sprawled.

Kate felt a flush crawling across her cheeks, soft skin stained pink with memories of the night before.

Because oh my _god,_ she had come so, so painfully close to having full-blown phone sex with Castle. If she hadn't hung up the phone, if they'd kept talking for just a few more minutes... Minutes. Hours. Huh, didn't matter. But this was **not **going to be awkward.

Because she had _not _stayed awake for half an hour afterwards, staring into the darkness with her hands fisted into her sheets, trying to keep her disobediant body under control.

And she hadn't finally given into the urges pulsing through her after endless minutes of re-living that phone call in her head.

And she had most definitely _not_ let her hand slip under the waistband of her underwear and- her cheeks became yet another shade of pink. Nope. Not thinking about that right now.

Castle greeted her with a shaky smile, and she knew he was unsure whether to give her space or not. As weird and **hot** as it was, knowing that he had probably done something very similar to her after their call ended, she didn't want him to back off, so she tossed a smile in his direction. The lines in his face relaxed as they turned towards Lanie, steps falling in sync.

As Lanie briefed them on the cause of death, Beckett found her concentration wavering, her attention zoning in towards the man standing next to her. It was like a switch had been flipped; now she'd put a toe over the line she'd drawn in the sand between them, she couldn't not feel that again. The line was smudged, the rules regarding their relationship were blurred.

It was like ripples of heat were radiating from his all-too-distant body and soaking straight into hers...

_"He's going to combust if he can't have her soon..." _her memories of his low voice husking down the phone line crept into her mind, sent a steady stream of incredibly **vivid **mental pictures to her brain...

"Beckett?" his voice snapped her abruptly out of her rapidly downhill train of thought.

"Huh?" she stuttered, working way, way too hard to keep her stupid, traitorous vocal cords under control.

"The leads? The ones that Lanie was talking about?"

"Oh. Huh. Yeah, right. Let's go." He shot her a look which told her he didn't miss the way her hands were shaking as she pushed her hair back from her eyes, but didn't say anything as they turned to leave.

_"Tonight he wants her hard, fast, he wants her shattering around him-"_ She needed to stop thinking about it before she did something stupid, anything to get it out of her head.

* * *

><p>Castle needed nothing more than to splash cold water over his face and calm down. Taking matters, uh, quite literally into his own hands last night may have provided some form of release, but it in no way compared to the reality he could have had with Beckett. He couldn't be entirely sure, but he thought that she was quite possibly feeling the same way he was right now, thinking similar thoughts, because he had <strong>not<strong> missed the little noises that had spilled from her mouth and into the phone.

And her word, oh, god, her beautiful, beautiful, _sinful _words...

_"She fists her hands in his hair, holds him there, while she hooks her leg even tighter around his waist-"_

A splash of water isn't going to do it for him, he needs to have a freezing cold bath and possibly suck on some icecubes- suck. Suck on. Oh, damn.

They walked in silence, a silence he would normally break, but right now he can't trust himself to place his feet in the right places, let alone speak normal words with no sexual connotations whatsoever.

This whole "give-her-time" thing wasn't overly difficult most of the time, but right now all he wanted was to find a bedroom or a closet or a **tree**, anywhere, really, even the ground, and- no. No, no, no, not thinking about that. No.

_"It's too much but not enough so she bucks her hips against his, grinds in a tight little circle right there..."_

Castle fought back a tortured groan, shoving his traitorous hands deep into the warm pockets of his coat.

"Beckett, do you think we should-" he uttered the worlds just as they walked around a tight corner, and she whirled around to face him while he walked a few steps more and-

Holy. Shit. Her face was so close, her hair dishevelled from the wind and the spin. He heard her suck in a sharp breath of damp air, watched as her throat worked, frantically trying to swallow. The air was electric all of a sudden, charged particles swirling into his lungs, and was this what it was like to be struck by lightning?

Castle expected her to step back, move away. She didn't.

**"Castle."** she croaked out, one of her hands shakily stretching out to land on his chest, slide up over her shoulder to the side of his neck, her damp palm catching the pulse of his jugular. His eyes searched her face, but all he saw was his own expression mirrored back at him.

* * *

><p>Damn, damn, damn, he was so, so, too close, Beckett swore she could smell him, musky and manly and so overwhelmingly arousing that it froze her, every square inch of her body completely still.<p>

It was a lethal cocktail of the words from last night and his incredibly close proximity that rooted her feet to the ground, glued her eyes to his face. She didn't think she had the ability to move in that moment; in fact, she wasn't exactly sure if she was breathing or not. Her heart was definitely beating, though, because it was thumping at racehorse speed in the back of her throat.

She found her hand rising without her permission, cupping his neck, thumbing the point where his pulse drummed under his skin. As fast as hers was. They matched.

**"Castle."** Beckett whispered, her throat clenching around her hoarse voice. Every little part of her (some parts more than others, in fact) was aching to kiss him, to bring her mouth to his and drink him in because she could NOT pretend that last night hadn't happened, but if she did that, she wouldn't be able to stop.

And if she couldn't stop, he wouldn't stop.

And they would end up having wild, frantic sex in a parking lot, which, although it sounded incredibly tempting, was probably not the best idea.

"Castle, is anyone in the loft right now?" she found herself whispering. That was it, the words were out there. No taking back, and she'd probably regret it later, but she needed him so freaking badly right now that the only thing that mattered was finding a place to be alone. And naked.

He shook his head, eyes wide, his irises burning such a dark shade of blue that she felt another pulse of heat in her stomach. There were a lot of things she was uncertain of, but she knew for sure that Castle was so, so turned on right now.

"Cab." she murmured, starting to walk, setting a fast pace that he matched beside her. "Now."


	4. Chapter 4

The ride back to the loft was torture.

After Beckett had participated in a 'conversation' with Lanie that involved mostly raised eyebrows and that magical telepathic communication woman have with their friends - Lanie appeared to both understand and encourage exactly what was going on; he wasn't sure whether to be embarrased about that or not - the M.E had slid off to spin a story to Gates that hopefully didn't involve the word "fucking" in any way, shape or form.

Beckett had given him a look, he had returned it, and they had hailed a cab which was now driving fast - but not fast enough - towards his home.

Castle wanted nothing more than to slide across the worn leather between them, pull her into his lap and let his fingers tangle in her loose curls. But he really didn't think he had enough willpower to stop once they started, and the poor driver didn't deserve that degree of mental scarring.

Every time he shot a glance in her direction, her eyes would jump away from him, and whenever he stopped watching her, he would feel the slow slide of her gaze onto his face. The few times their eyes had met, each of them had jolted their gaze away as if they'd actually been burnt by the sheer intensity of the heat scorching between them.

He noticed that her pupils were dilated; enormous pools of inky black in the dusty green-brown of her irises, and a flush had spread across her cheeks, the soft skin slightly damp. Damp. He gulped in a breath of air that was suddenly too thick and too hot for his lungs to handle.

Rick willed his hands to stay still, not to twitch or shake or snake their way across the vast inches of space between them.

And then all he could do was wait, wait until they pulled over and were left alone with their feelings.

* * *

><p>Kate briefly considered saying something along the lines of, "Damn, it's hot in here." but she could almost guarantee that he would say something along the lines of "Oh, sorry, that's just me." and it would be so utterly true that she wouldn't be able to tell him off for being cocky.<p>

Because he was hot. She was hot for him. Everything about their situation was overwhelmingly hot, and they were both fully clothed.

She realized that somewhere in the past few minutes, she had decided that they were going to end up naked. A little part of her in the back of her brain warned her that she wasn't thinking, that this was _Castle,_ that he meant too much for it to be casual sex and some feelings were going to have to be bared along with the rest of her, but all her other **parts** really couldn't care less.

Beckett pressed her thighs tighter together in an attempt to at least ease the pressure that was coiling in the pit of her stomach.

And then all she could do was wait until the cab stopped and they finally, finally resolved the tension.

* * *

><p>It was the most eternal twenty minute drive of her life, but as soon as they were standing alone on the sidewalk outside, she wished it had continued for just a few minutes longer, a few minutes to let her gather her scattered thoughts and convince herself not to.<p>

Yet here they were, stumbling blindly up the stairs (because if they took the elevator there was a very real danger of in a daze of _what-the-hell-are-we-doing_, hips occasionally colliding, fingertips occasionally brushing in brief reassurance that neither of them were backing out.

She wasn't really sure what to do, whether to slow down and put it off or speed up so she could shove him through the doorway and rip his shirt off, so she just kept pace with him, listening to the sound of his ragged breathing.

Beckett wasn't wondering how much of that was due to the stairs and how much was because of her. She was **_not_**.

She risked a glance at his face, saw the look in his eyes and then she couldn't resist any longer; she swung out and snagged his hand in hers. Her thumb brushed over his sweaty palm before stilling, soaking in the warmth of his skin.

From there it was a rush, a blur, a few more stairs, a fumbled jangle of keys and then they were pushing the door open, together, with the hands that were not tangled together in the middle.

As soon as the door swung shut after them with a muted swish, the entire world slowed down.

All that existed was Richard Castle and her, all alone in the sun-swirled loft with sweaty skin and a lot of unanswered questions between them. Between them. There was space between them. Somewhere in her brain - a brain which was really, really not working correctly today - she registered that this should not be the case.

And then she lunged.

She had him shoved against the closed door in an instant, her mouth hard against his in the next, and then they were kissing, warm mouth hot tongue sharp teeth all at once. Beckett's hand crawled up to cup the ridge of his jaw, pull him tighter, angle his head for better access to his sinful mouth. His hands in return slid their way down the dip of her back, fingers sprawling over her hips and roughly yanking her lower body against his. _Ohhh. _

She wanted him with an all-encompassing kind of fury she hadn't felt in _forever,_ a need that burned through her veins like they'd been filled with gasoline and set on fire. The flames licked at her belly, roared behind her eyes, and all she could think was his name and a whole lot of drawn out vowels. Her tongue stroked smoothly against his, he bit down sharply on her bottom lip and this time she couldn't hold back the groan that spilled into his mouth.

How did he _know_ that she liked being bitten? She'd never told him and- guhhh. He did it again, this time a rough nip at the corner of her mouth that he laved over with his tongue afterwards, leaving just enough time in between for her to feel the sting of his teeth. _Oh, God, fuck._

It doesn't even matter that they shouldn't be doing this because both of them are way too far gone to even try and stop. It feels too damn good to even consider that possibility.

Castle reversed their positions with a clever little twist of his arms against her. He softened the thump of her back into the door with his hands, an act that would have made her smile under any circumstances, but right now her mouth was far too busy nibbling its way down the underside of his jaw.

She could taste the tang of sweat on his slightly stubbled skin.

Kate Beckett liked being in control, certainly, liked feeling powerful, but there was something about the sensation of his large body crowding her, pressing her tight against the wall, the very clear evidence of his arousal hard against her thigh that sent another pulse of heat straight to her core. Maybe it was just because it was Castle; because he'd way too far away for such a long time that having him _this _close was overwhelming.

He gripped her thighs, hoisted her up further and positioned himself right between her- holy shit, so good, _right there,_ Castle, _right there. _She wanted to tell him, wanted to say some meaningfull words to explain just how much forever she wants with him, but it's all she can do to try and hold back half the noises that want to fly from her mouth, animalistic grunts she wasn't even sure she was capable of making.

She grinds her hips down the way she told him Nikki would do instead; hopes that the action speaks the words she can't say.

_Castle, Castle, Castle._


	5. Chapter 5

This is pure smut. I can't make myself be ashamed of it.

* * *

><p>Her hands were fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, popping them loose one by one. Castle stuck his arms out, pinning her to the wall with his thighs, letting her slide his shirt free. Beckett tossed it on the floor - it may have brought out the blue in his eyes, but she decided that <em>naked<em> was a better look on him anyway.

A sudden primal need to touch every single inch of his body coursed through her, and she obliged; her hands running over the expanse of his chest, pressing against his runaway heartbeat, her mouth sucking a steady path along the tendons of his neck.

"Are you _sure?"_ he ground out, hot breath against the shell of her ear. His voice was deep, gravelly; he sounded like sex. When she tried to answer, the first thing that came out of her mouth was a strangled moan that she'd apparently been holding back for a while, but she didn't even have the capacity to be ashamed of it.

"_Yes, _yes..." She wasn't sure when her ability to say more than one syllable had disappeared, but obviously it had; possibly because, holy shit, she was actually about to fuck Richard Castle. "Bedroom." Two syllables. That was a start.

He paused for a few seconds, pulled back and looked at her with a depth in his eyes that took her completely aback, but she rasped the pad of her thumb over one of his nipples in encouragement because if he didn't get her to bed _right now,_ then so help her, she was going to tear his clothes off and frantic door sex would take place. (She wouldn't mind that too much, actually, but she had a feeling that the romantic in him wouldn't be able to stand their first time being **up against a door**. )

Somehow, they make it to the bedroom. She isn't exactly sure how they manage, because he's only half holding her against him and she can't seem to stop touching him to save her life, but they do.

Then he was backing her towards the bed, crowding her, until her legs hit the mattress and she was sprawled over his sheets, sheets that smelled like him and were oh-so-soft against her oversensitized skin.

Castle knelt over her, her thighs parting to wrap around his waist and pull him in, heels digging into the backs of his - she couldn't help but notice - surprisingly well-muscled thighs. Her mouth found his neck again. There was something about him that was addictive; she'd been craving this with him for so goddamn long and now that she was finally, _finally _allowed to touch him, taste him, she couldn't get enough.

"Do you know how much I want you?" she murmured against him, surprised at the sudden eloquence, because she didn't normally talk during sex. Didn't ask questions, didn't bring feelings into it, because the physical sensations were enough without emotions there too. But this wasn't normal, this was Castle. It figured that something would be different.

"I think I- Jesus, Beckett - might have... an idea-" he grunted, and she was so entirely distracted in the taste of his skin and his wide fingers kneading the curve of her ass that she didn't notice he'd gotten her shirt off until he was one-handedly unhooking her bra and tugging it free from her body.

"Only an _idea_?" the last syllable of 'idea' keened off into a noise she absolutely **refused** to describe as whimpering, because Kate Beckett did NOT whimper. Ever. Not even when Richard Castle was - fuck, fuck, _fuck - _sucking the tightened peak of her nipple into his mouth, tracing the pad of his thumb across the other nipple and making ripples of pleasure so intense that they were almost painful shudder through her body.

His other hand flicked open the button of her jeans. He pressed the fly against her clit as he slid it down; her hips bucked up involuntarily into his hand in a way that gave away her desperation more than she liked.

"More than an idea;" he muttered around her breast, his hot puffs of breath fanning against the goosebumps that had formed on her skin.

She was a few seconds away from forming a reply when somehow his hand slipped under the denim, under the silk of her underwear, and then her mind went blissfully blank except for the bright pinpoints of pleasure.

Somehow, he knew her body better than all the other men who had done this to her - not that there'd been many, not really, but there'd been enough for her to know that half of them had no idea what they were doing - because almost right away, his fingers were rubbing soft circles right where she wanted it. Beckett had always loved his hands; big hands, writer's hands with rough calluses from hours of holding a pen, and she may have _possibly _had her fair share of fantasies about those hands and what they could do to her-

"_Ohhh..."_ the sound was soft, rounded, uninvitable. One of her hands crept up to fist in his hair, thumb circling over the unbearable softness of his scalp. His finger dipped down to where hot wetness pooled, dragged it slickly back up and continued the circles. Light pressure, barely there, just the endless motion that she allowed herself to get lost in. Castle's thumb slid down to part her folds, sliding against her with a practised ease that curls her toes and just barely eases the coiling pressure in her core.

It was the best kind of sensory overload imaginable, until suddenly he stops, stops the rubbing, the teasing, the _sucking,_ and a mewl of indignation leaves her throat before she can stop it, but then he's sliding down her body, fingers trailing over her stomach and further parting her thighs as he slides both her jeans and panties off. _Oh my god, is he going to- _a protest is forming on her lips, but then his fucking mouth is on her and all she can do is try and control the motions of her hips.

Her eyes screwed themselves shut.

Castle sucked roughly at her, tongue rasping, nose brushing, it's too fast and too much, so close, and then she couldn't help it, she opened her eyes-

The sighs of a shirtless Rick Castle, absolutely _grinning _between her legs with her wetness smeared over his chin was just too much for her to take.

She shattered. Hard.

Her thighs pressed him tighter into her and he didn't stop, he _kept going_, absolutely furiously fast, mouth and teeth and lips and tongue all working. The ecstasy overwhelmed her, spasms shaking through her sweaty body.

_Castle Castle Castle, god, Castle, I want you I love you I love you I love you Castle_

It's a mental loop, his name, his face, on repeat, until finally, finally, the shuddering slows and she can breath again.

"Castle."

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><p>still not ashamed.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Nearly at 100 reviews guys ^-^ Thanks so much, all of you.

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><p>He watched her.<p>

Watched the sheen of sweat glistening over her heaving chest, watched her hair sliding over the pillow with every tiny movement of her head as she came down from the high. He drank her in with his eyes, everything about her, the taut muscles of her thighs and the little line on her forehead, the way her eyelashes brushed her cheeks, and then her eyes opened.

She smiled at him, a little half-quirk of her mouth, then took a second look at his face between her legs and groaned.

Castle slid her thighs off his shoulders, crept back up the bed like a jungle cat to lean over her, brush his thumb over her bottom lip.

Beckett opened her mouth and sucked the digit inside, laved over it with the tip of her tongue before releasing it with a practiced pop.

_Shit. _The little blood that remained in his brain flowed swiftly south.

"You're wearing too many clothes." she mumbled, nudging his nose with hers.

"That was overwhelmingly cliched."

"Don't care." and then the affection in her eyes was swept away by something deeper, more dangerous, something that was a little like lust and a little like love but completely different to both of them.

Her fingers tripped down his stomach to undo his belt, clumsily slide his pants down his legs as she messily met his mouth with too much tongue and teeth for it to really be considered a kiss. She somehow managed to push his trousers off with the heels of her feet, kicking them onto the floor where they land with a scrumple of fabric. His boxers follow suit, and then there's both of them lying naked on his bed.

There should be fireworks exploding, birds singing, but all he has is the reality that Kate Beckett is letting him do this to her, that she _wants _him to do this to her, with her, and that is more than enough. Beckett linked her ankles together behind his thighs, pulled him closer, closer, her eyes soft in a second and steely in the next. He wanted to wait, just for a second, commit every inch of her to his memory in case she's gone tomorrow, but then she made a little grumble of impatience, and who was he to resist her when his own arousal is almost painful?

Then there's only fragments, like his brain was segmenting the overwhelming situation into parts that he could comprehend.

How wet she was - not that he didn't already know, but the knowledge that it's _him_ doing this to her, making her **drip**, was almost too much to bear.

The hand that fisted in the short hair at the back of his neck when he teasted her, pushing lightly around her entrence.

And then the sweet, slick slide inside of her, the squeeze of her muscles.

They let out groans at the same time, the same pitch. Castle pushed slowly, slowly inside, giving her, him, them, time to adjust to the sensations as they twined tighter together. There was a moment when she stared into the distance, when he wondered whether she was really okay with _this _happening.

"Kate?" his voice was softer than he'd realised, throatier, his breath hot over her cheek. Beckett's eyes slid back to his face, and she seemed to hold a question in them, a question he didn't know how to put into words, let alone answer. It was only when a tear curled down her cheek that he really registered she was crying.

"No, no, I'm fine," she husked at once, a hand sliding up to cup his jaw as she pressed a kiss to the full curve of his bottom lip. "I just... you have no idea, Castle. I thought this was all I wanted with you at first, but there's so much more, so much more-"

Castle shifted over her slightly to slide his lips over the corner of her mouth, dip his tongue in to barely taste her. She groaned against him and he glanced down, only to see that his movement had pressed him against her clit.

"Castle, I can't do this, I can't talk with you, not while you're- not while we're- feelings _later, _could you please, please just-"

"Could I please just _what?"_ he tried not to be too smug about the fact that Beckett was actually pleading with him.

"Don't be **difficult**." she whined, and tugged his lip between her teeth.

"I'm not. Just tell me what you want me to to and I shall do it."

"_Rick.."_

He captured her mouth, hard, sucked on her tongue, leaving her panting and following his mouth when he pulled away.

"Do you want me to do that?"

A hand snaked down her sweat-slicked skin to her breasts, rolled a nipple between his fingers, strumming his thumb roughly over it as his other hand palmed at her ass.

"What about that?"

"_Yes_." Beckett hissed, too desperate for his hands everywhere to contain herself.

"Then I will do just that. But I think more than anything-"

He raised his hips, pulling almost out before sliding smoothly into her, burying himself to the hilt.

"You want me to do **that**." Castle repeated the action, grunting deep in his throat as her inner muscles squeezed him, stretched around him.

Her hips pressed up, ground in a circle, and an expression of total ecstasy flitted across her features. _Beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. _

"God, too good, so good- **harder.**" she commanded, and it wasn't in him to draw it out any more. He slammed his hips against hers, once, twice, three times, and she met him thrust for thrust. They found a rhythm easily, easier than he'd expected, really, short hard thrusts that were each followed by a circular press of his groin against her clit.

She liked that, he discovered, liked circles against the tender skin. Maybe... Castle raised a hand to his mouth, sucked on two fingers, then slid them between her legs. The reaction was instant.

Her back arched, grip on his hair tightened, and a noise tore itself from her mouth. It was halfway between a moan and a fucking _purr_, and god, if it wasn't the sole most arousing noise he had ever heard. He tweaked the bundle of nerves, felt the shudder that rippled through her entire body like water in the wind, then started the circling, the drawing. Writing letters. Words.

w-i-l-l y-o-u -m-a-r-r-y m-e o-n-e d-a-y

He clumsily outlined the letters, fingertips gliding through the sweet slickness of her, not even sure why he bothered writing it on her skin when she'd never know. Probably just because he loved her. He did a lot of things just because he loved her.

She groaned, spread her legs wider.

The deeper angle coursed through him.

Her fingers moved on the back of his neck; she was writing, too, although he didn't know what.

_I want all of you forever._

They sped up in unison, no rhythm, just the frantic need for release. He slid over her clit faster, pressing harder, and, jesus, he was so close to the edge.

"-Kate- are you- because I am-" he managed to pant out against her lips, punctuating the spaces between words with groans that he couldn't come close to controlling.

It seemed like all she needed was the sound of his voice, because she fell apart then and there. He followed her, like he always had. And then they were orbiting the sun, two comets colliding, a supernova burning between them. He spilled into her, caught her moans in his mouth and swallowed them.

"I-" she started to say, and then she stopped, hissed, arched against him as the last shocks of her orgasm drenched her.

Castle rolled off her, landed heavily in the tangled sheets behind her.

Beckett covered her face with her arms, pressed her thighs together and mumbled a, "Holy shit." into her own skin.

He couldn't have said it better himself.

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><p>Not gonna lie, I blushed while writing this. reviews? :3<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Just so you know, this is a partially AU storyline, therefore Beckett _did _get shot but wasn't conscious for long enough to hear Castle's ILY.

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><p>Beckett's galloping heartbeat drummed unsteadily against her ribcage as she struggled to catch her scattered breath. Her entire body was on fire, electricifed, nerve endings raw and skin flushed pink.<p>

She kept her eyes shut, tight shut, because the sensations alone were enough of a sensory overload without seeing Castle, looking like sex with his hair rumpled and hickeys marching over the soft skin of his neck. Not that it helped much, she was imagining it anyway. Imagining it vividly. Very vividly.

Her heartbeat started to slow, becoming more steady, a metronome.

She opened her eyes to see him in a position very similar to her previous one; sprawled on his back, completely and utterly naked, with his eyes shut. Beckett sat up, pushing sweaty hair out of her eyes, and gave herself a moment to watch him. No, not watch him - observe him? Commit him to memory? She wasn't sure. But he had a birthmark just a little bit bigger than a freckle right above his hipbone, and his hands were curled at his sides.

It was oddly innocent, the way his hands were - especially after the things he'd just done to her - it was like ferns slowly unfurling from their tight coils, of the way babies fists relaxed as they slept, and- where the hell was this poetry in her head coming from? He was rubbing off on her; not in a dirty way- well. Maybe in a dirty way, but- never mind.

As Kate leaned over him more, one hand coming up to trace the whorls of his earlobe, he blinked his eyes, focused on her face.

"Hey there, ocean eyes," she murmured, and watched in awe as a smile spread its way slowly across his face. She matched it with one of her own.

Beckett had never considered herself much of a snuggler, but everything was different with Castle, anyway, so she lowered herself down again, her head nestling into the dip of his shoulder. Castle's arm slipped across her shoulders, holding her tight, holding her together.

"Hi." he whispered, still watching her with that amazing expression on his face. That love - she wasn't worthy of that love, but he was determined to give it to her, so the only thing she could do was love him back.

Because she did. Love him.

"I love you." Beckett twisted her head to kiss his shoulder after she said it, as if her lips could press the words into his skin. His mouth opened, and she knew what he wanted to say, but she brushed the pad of her thumb over his lips and continued speaking. "I was about to say it, before, while we were - you know, but people tend to say things they don't mean in the spur of the moment - that _particular_ moment especially, and I wanted you to know that I meant it. That I mean it."

The smile that had only just begun to fade from his face was suddenly back in full bloom, and he dipped his head down as she stretched out her neck. Their mouths met in the middle. It reminded her of the coffees that he gave her every day in its sweetness, the warm slant of his lips over hers, the roll of his tongue. She pulled back with a soft popping noise that stirred something in her stomach.

"I love you, too, but you already knew that," Castle said quietly, and with such conviction that she couldn't resist dropping another warm kiss on his lips before lying back down.

"I did know, but I'm glad you said it."

"Are we-"

"Yes." she interrupted, and was rewarded with a deep chuckle that she felt vibrating through his chest. Vibrations. His chest. His beautifully smooth, bare chest...

She let her fingers trip over his skin, walking them like they were legs, brushing a thumb over his nipple and feeling it pebble. He made a little noise in the back of his throat, like a growl, only softer. Beckett kept circling around, strumming a fingertip over it, delighting in the shudders that rocked through him, the noises he made, and all because of _her_. Her fingernails scratched down his stomach, raising slews of goosebumps in their wake.

Her gaze flicked downwards for a second, and she had to repress a smirk at the discovery that her touches were certainly affecting him as much as they were her, if not more. Although she'd never willingly admit it to anyone, tearing her eyes away from that particular _area_ of him was quite the struggle, because after all those years of imagining- not that she'd fantasized about him naked, or anything. Nope. Not at all.

Beckett rolled over, straddled him in a smooth motion, leaving his growing arousal pressed between them. A hotness fluttered in the pit of her stomach as she dipped her mouth to his nipple, laved her tongue over him, his hand stroking down her side and squeezing her ass. She arched into him, kissed her way up to his mouth.

One day, they would do this unhurriedly, let it take hours, stretch out all the moments into a long train of ecstasy.

One day.

But today, she needed him again, she needed him in her and she needed it now. His fingers - clever, clever fingers - slid between her legs, but she pushed them away gently, biting her bottom lip.

He was obviously ready - she could _feel _it - and she was more than ready, had been since this morning, really. Beckett positioned herself over him, lowered her body down, and then- **ohhhh** that was nice.

New angles with this position, new pressure in new places. Deep, sweet, forbidden, heavenly places that made fireworks dance on the insides of her eyelids. Those kinds of places. His hips were bucking into her, not controlled at all, and it astonished her, that she could get him like this, that she could make him lose control like this.

She ground her hips down, up, down, over and over until she couldn't remember her name. His hand snaked back between her legs and she didn't have the willpower to resist, just let him slip his fingers where he knew she needed them.

They were erratic and frantic and so utterly perfect that it made her ache, and before she knew it they were coming apart together, perfectly in sync, and he was saying her name like a prayer.

Beckett slipped off him again, burrowing back against his body with a harsh exhale of breath.

"Enjoy that?" he muttered with a smirk, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

"You know I did."


	8. Chapter 8

Because they didn't actually go through with the phone sex the first time they tried this...

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><p>It had been one week and three days since the last time she'd seen him.<p>

Not that she'd been counting. Because she didn't do that.

In hindsight, she should have seen it coming, but Beckett had somehow convinced herself that Castle spending two weeks in LA while she stayed in New York wouldn't be a problem. She had been very, very wrong.

They were about a month into their relationship - relationship. She liked that word when it related to them - and everything was still so new and _exciting_ in every sense of the word that they'd had a hard time keeping their hands off each other for the short span of hours they were at the precinct.

That had been _difficult, _but they'd made up for it when they got home.

But now? This wasn't a couple of hours during which even Ryan had picked up on the unresolved sexual tension in the room.

This was two. Fucking. Weeks. And she was going to absolutely **explode.**

And that was why she had dialled his number in the darkness, after lying in bed for god-knows-how-long with the sheets prickling her hot skin.

"Kate?" his voice, his deep voice growling down the phone - how was this even making her hot? He'd said _one word._

"Castle. I miss you."

"As in you miss me, or you _miss-_miss me?" Damn. He'd picked up on that quickly. He knew her so well- wait. Unless he was in the same position as she was...?

"Well, both. But I'll have to go for option number two right now..."

"Hmm, yes, I was wondering when you'd cave and call me."

"You were - what?"

"Please, Beckett, we both know that we like sex, and we like it a _lot_. We don't go two DAYS without, let alone two weeks."

"And this proves that..."

"That eventually, you were going to swallow your pride and ring me for exactly this purpose." She spent a few minutes enjoying the way he accentuated the word _swallow _before she replied.

"What purpose?"

"I think we both know what purpose, Katherine Beckett."

"What are you wearing?" the words were hot as they spilt from her mouth. He chuckled.

"Classic line. But, since you asked... boxers."

"Boxer and...?"

"Just boxers." he said it so casually, but her stomach clenched in arousal. She shuffled further up the pillows of her bed, trapping the phone between her ear and her shoulder.

"_Shit_, Rick." she muttered, imagining him, bare-chested in a hotel bed so far away from her.

"May I ask what you're wearing?"

"One of your t-shirts. The blue one." Beckett replied, and then after a moment added, "Because it smells like you."

He made a noise that was torn between a growl and a groan. She could just _see_ the expression on his face, brow furrowed as he tried to keep himself in control long enough to make this last for both of them.

"I remember the time we almost did this," she continued, her fingertips starting to whisper over the flat plane of her stomach, muscles bunching and twitching under her shaky touch. "When it was Nikki and Rook, but really it was us, all us."

"It was so _hot__," _Castle muttered. "But then you hung up."

"Because I knew what was going to happen if it kept going. It kind of happened anyway, though."

"_Kind of? _It most definitely happened."

"I touched myself after I hung up." she whispered, not even bothering to monitor what she was saying. She heard him suck in a breath, and she wanted to catch the quick exhale that followed in her own mouth, swallow it.

"So did I." he admitted. "Oh my _god,_ we were totally doing it at the same time." Beckett circled her belly button, scratched lightly with her fingernails.

"I wanted to drive to the loft that night, end up in your bed, I wanted it so badly. Just like I want it now, only you're so damn far away." The pressure in her groin was building to the point where it was actually uncomfortable. Was he even going to start talking to her or was he-

"Close your eyes, Beckett." Never mind. _And so it begins. _She obeyed him, sliding her eyelids shut and focusing her attention on the smoky notes of his voice, on the rumble of his throat. "I know you want this. I know you're wet, I can tell you're wet, because you wouldn't have called me if you weren't absolutely _desperate _to be touched." her breathing grew shallower, the hand on her stomach sliding up to cup her breast, pinch a hardened nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

"You know what I'd do if I was with you, but I'll tell you anyway. I'd slide a hand slowly, slowly down between your legs, barely skirt the edges of your folds; you'd open your thighs slowly as I did, because you **like** that, Detective."

A predatory note crept into his voice, as if he knew just how much his voice was affecting her, and he was enjoying ever second of it. Her hands mimicked his words, slipping to her core and grazing against the slick skin, the touch nowhere _near_ firm enough to get her off, and she knew he knew it. Bastard.

"I would slide down, dip my finger into your wetness, drag it up and circle slowly - _slowly, _Beckett, not fast. That's cheating - around your clit. Not touching, just circling slowly, slowly around." He knew. He knew that she was obeying him, knew that she's following his orders, and from the little groans that occasionally punctuated his words, he found it incredibly arousing,

Beckett was suddenly overwhelmed with an image of him, sprawled on a bed, rock hard and tenting the fabric of his boxers as he whispered his sinful words into the phone while trying not to give in to the urge to touch himself. She imagined running a finger over the hard line of his erection, watching him try not to buck his hips. Imagined taking him into her mouth, feeling him heavy on her tongue, his hands in her hair as she swallowed-

She told him that. The noise he made was so dirty and almost _pained_ that it made her stomach clench, her fingers slide against her once more.

(It wasn't just about her pleasure, she realised. It was about them, about him, and she wanted him to feel it, wanted him to come, wanted to hear him grind out her name in between moans.)

She couldn't resist brushing a fingertip over her clit, just once.

"You can too, Castle. I want you to. Touch yourself for me." There was a lengthy pause in which she lost herself in his breathing. Then he spoke.

"Why, Katherine, I thought you'd never ask.


	9. Chapter 9

He did, of course, because who was he to resist her? Castle flicked the phone onto speaker, set it on the bedside table where it stood like a sentry.

His arousal throbbed almost painfully, pushing against the restraint of his underwear, and he couldn't hold back a hiss as he ran the tip of one finger over himself through the silken fabric, propped himself up against the headboard of his bed.

"Do it. I'm not going to last." she commanded, bossy.

"What - ahhh - makes you think I will, Beckett?" he pulled his erection free from his boxers, thumbing the head roughly.

There was a beat of silence in which he teased his length with one finger, slowly, the way he'd told her to touch himself. She was quiet, too, and it took a moment for him to realize that she was listening to his swiftly quickening breathing.

"Shit," Beckett hissed down the line, saying the word like a prayer. "You really are enjoying this, aren't you?"

"That would be an understatement." Castle replied, keeping his touch on himself light, because he was wound up a lot tighter than he'd anticipated, and as embarrasing as it was, it really wasn't going to take much at all.

(Somehow, this whole situation was colored by the fact that he missed her. Not just missed her in _that_ way - which, of course, he did - but he missed the mismatched fuzzy socks she always wore at night and then left scattered around the loft, how she let him plait her hair when she was tired, the way she talked so easily with his mother. He missed all of it. All of her.)

"I wish my mouth was where your hands are right now." God, her brain-mouth filter was a bit disconnected, probably because of a combination of exhaustion and ridiculous lust. He groaned, anyway, because he knew she meant it.

"And vice versa." Castle added, wrapping his fingers around his cock and stroking up, down, producing a raw kind of pleasure that shuddered through his entire body. "We should, when you I back. Both of us at the same time. We haven't tried that before."

It would be an incredible sensory overload, his mouth on her while her mouth was on him... he toyed with the weight of his balls with his free hand, rough fingertips against sensitive skin.

"_Yessss.."_ He couldn't tell whether the exclamation was directed towards his suggestion or her fingers or both of them. Her fingers. Right.

"Two fingers, Kate. Slide them where you want them, crook them inside yourself the way that I'd do, so that you feel it, _really _feel it."

He heard the hitch in her breathing, the little "ohhh..." that slid from her lips, and he knew she was doing it.

"God, Castle."

"People do tend to get the two of us confused."

"Shut _up _and get me off." Beckett growled - growled! - at him. Her voice was hot, curling around the edges, like morning sex in the shower. He really, really wanted to get a plane ticket to New York right this instant, have her meet him at the airport, drag her into the nearest bathroom and not leave much of what he wanted to the imagination.

But for now? Getting her off sounded **great.**

"Faster. However fast you're going, go _faster. _Curl your thumb around, stroke it over your clit, rub circles the way I did the first time we fucked."

She made a muffled groan; her face was probably pressed into a pillow, mouth wet against the fabric, trying to stifle the noises she was making. He knew she liked it when he swore; there had been this one time where he'd let a few expletives loose in the interrogation room with a particularly obtuse suspect, and the next thing he knew, she'd dragged him into a spare closet and started sucking on his neck. Ohh. Good memories.

"No, Kate, don't muffle it. I want to hear. I need to hear."

"Castle, Castle, _Castle._" she husked, and he realised that the reason she'd been keeping quiet was because she was saying his name, over and over under her breath, a mantra, a chant. "Are you... how close, Rick?"

"Close. Uhh. Very close." Castle managed to choke out, his hand fisting tighter, speeding up as he worked himself higher and higher.

"_Castle. _Fuck. The thought that you're- at the same time I am - it's _fucking hot." _Well. He liked it when she swore, too. Somehow she could make the words sound better than they were, especially when she said them with her hand down her pants. "I wish I could see you right now. I've always wanted to watch you."

The last sentence piqued his interest. _She'd always wanted to watch him. _His hand pumped, faster, faster.

"You've always wanted to watch me?"

"I've always- oh. Shit, that feels _good. - _wondered about you. Wanted to know what you'd look like as you came. Wanted to know if you did it while you were thinking about me, the way I did about you."

"I did, I did... wait, you _did?_ Since _when?"_

"Since a long time back, Rick, since before I was in love with you. Castle, I don't know how much longer I can-"

"Then let yourself go, I'll be right with you. Pump your fingers harder, stroke that special spot inside of you; you know the one. Press down harder on your clit, and know that if I could, I would be doing that - **all **of it - to you."

Then all that existed was the rasp of his breathing and the in-out-in-out gasping of hers, the blur of his hand on his cock as he felt the warm point of ecstasy growing, spreading through his blood like liquid fire in his veins.

It wasn't what he wanted. He wanted _her_, just like he will every day for the rest of their life, not just his own hand, but with the sound of her making tiny little moans that sound suspiciously like his last name, it was just enough.

He came in hot spurts all over the fabric of his boxers with a grunt of her name and a final buck of his hips.

They lapsed into a sated silence. Castle slid down the headboard of the foreign bed, his head falling onto a starchy pillow that smelled nothing like her.

"I love you." she said, first, and it surprised him.

"I love you too."

"No, I _really _love you. More than anything, ever." he loved her when she was sleepy and honest with him.

"I know the feeling, sweetheart." Did he just call her sweetheart? She didn't call him up on it, and the endearment felt suprisingly natural. "You should probably get to sleep, and I should, uh, go have a shower."

"'Kay." she murmured, and Castle pictured her nuzzling her smile into the pillow.

"Sweet dreams, Kate."

"They'll be of you."

_Click. _

And the line went silent.


	10. Chapter 10

Kate Beckett did _not _induldge in public displays of affection. Especially not with Castle. Especially not at the precinct.

Yet somehow, this had slipped her mind for a few seconds, and she had somehow managed to throw herself at Rick the minute he rounded the corner.

Her brain sort of skipped out the seconds between seeing him and colliding with him, so the next thing she knew, her arms were around his neck and his were crushing her closer to him, holding her against him, encircling her.

She took a deep breath; breathed him in, the scent that was spicy and clean and all his. Her pillows still smelled vaguely like him.

They pulled away from each other for a few seconds only to dive back in, swaying on the spot. She thought that it was quite possibly one of the best hugs she'd ever had. Castle was a good hugger; big enough to envelope her, to keep her warm and hold her together.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ryan and Esposito, standing awkwardly in the doorway, not sure whether to approach them or run for the hills. Beckett reluctantly untangled herself from Castle, whispering a soft, "I missed you." in his ear, and turned to the boys.

(Castle shoved both his hands into his pockets to resist the strong temptation to touch her again.)

Ryan smirked, raised an eyebrow.

"Finished snuggling yet?"

Beckett fixed him with a 'look'; Ryan moved behind Esposito as if to shield himself. Too happy to keep a straight face, she let a smile swim over her face and rolled her eyes.

"There'll be time for more of that later." she murmured, directing the statement more at her boyfriend - she still had her trepidations about using that word, but 'partner' didn't really cut it anymore - than at Ryan.

Esposito crinkled his nose.

"Ew. 'S good to have you back though, bro. We missed you. Uh, some more than others. Do you _know _how grumpy she gets when she has to get her own coffee?"

Castle attempted to stifle a grin, nudging his girlfriend - he thought she was warming to the use of 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' just a liiiiittle bit - with his elbow. She snaked her hand into his coat pocket to link her fingers with his. He circled his thumb across the base of her ring finger; let himself wonder.

"Any interesting cases?" he deflected, watching them watching him watching her.

"Guy who was quite literally stabbed in the back?"

"Oooh. With what?"

"A sword." Ryan supplied.

"How does one get a sword in New York?"

"Our vic collected them, apparently."

"Intriguing."

Ryan shuffled his feet, still seeming unsure as to whether they should leave or not.

Esposito rolled his eyes in a very Beckettish fashion. Castle turned to see Beckett watching them with a look in her eyes that made him want nothing more than to pin her to the desk and- oh. Oh, never mind. She crowded closer to him, pushing up on her heels to lean her head towards his.

"Uh, we have a few leads that maybe you should-"

Castle met her mouth with his, softly, lightly, his hand stroking gently over the small of her back.

"Follow up, and there's a guy who-"

She groaned softly, one of her hands cupping his cheek, fingers resting on the slight stubbble he hadn't had time to remove.

"You know what, I think we can manage it ourselves, you two go and... do what you do, y'know, we'll be-"

"Uh, doing things-"

"Not those things. Other things."

"So now we're gonna..."

"Go."

"Yes. Go."

Castle tilted his head for a better angle at the soft sweetness of her mouth before pulling back slowly. Savouring. One of her thumbs traced the lobe of his ear, and he decided that out of all the expressions he'd seen on her face, this one was his favorite. He couldn't even name it, it was just warmth, sunlight shining from every atom of her body.

"Wanna go do what we do now?"

"Why Richard, I thought you'd never ask." she mimicked his words from that oh-so-memorable night, looking up at him from under her eyelashes.

* * *

><p>They came back to her apartment because it had felt so all-consumingly empty without him that she wanted him there, wanted him to fill it with more memories that she could dwell on the next time he left.<p>

He stopped her at the doorway, scooped her into his arms, and carried her clumsily to her bedroom. She protested - he wasn't the most co-ordinated of men, and she really, _really _did not want to be dropped on her floor - but she let him, because she loved him.

(Once she was lying on her bed with him on top of her, she decided it was absolutely worth it.)

It's like worship. Not like they're both worshipping each other, but like they're worshipping the concept of _them. _Of love.

He unbuttoned her shirt with his teeth.

She sucked on the lobe of his ear the way she'd wanted to in the precinct.

He licked a wet trail from her collarbone to her jaw.

She slipped his coat and shirt off while he was still distracted by the taste of her skin.

Beckett wanted to find all the individual things she'd missed about him and try them again one by one; she reached for the buckle of his trousers.

"Slow this time." he murmured against her neck, teeth scraping the tender skin with every word.

"Not tryin' to go fast. Just want our clothes off."

He obliged, like she'd known he would, sliding his pants down his legs at the same time she kicked her legs free of hers. Castle nuzzled the little hollow behind her ear, his breath coming in warm puffs.

Kate fisted her hand in his hair and pulled his face down to hers, slipping her tongue in the minute his mouth opened for her. He gave as good as he got - didn't he always? - stroking the length of his tongue against hers. She found herself trying to commit how he tasted to memory.

"God, I missed you." she whispered into his mouth, the words sloppy and quiet against his lips.

"Missed you more." Beckett felt him smile; she swallowed it, counting the pearls of his teeth with her tongue.

She wasn't exactly sure how he managed to rid them both of their underwear, how he managed to unhook her bra without her noticing at all. She only realised he had when all of a sudden his hand had skated down her stomach and through the pooling wetness between her legs.

It had been too long. Her hips rocked up, core aching as she bucked into his touch.

"Next time I go to LA, I'm taking you with me."


	11. Chapter 11

Every inch of her body was aching for him.

Her hips bucked, chest tightened, hands slid up to squeeze the full curve of his ass, and when she slid her fingers under the elastic of his boxers and squeezed again, he let out a long, languid groan that rippled right through her.

God. She'd elicited that noise from him.

Beckett thrilled with it.

His fingers played with her with an drawn-out, lazy ease; tracing a light pattern over her entrance, barely tickling over the sweet spots on either side of her clit without actually providing the pressure she craved.

And damn, was she craving it.

"Castle, would you just _stop_ teasing and fuck me already you insufferable b- ohhhhhh that was good, so good, do it again- " the string of sounds escaped without her permission as he did something sinfully delicious to her clit with his thumb- mm, there it was again, and this time she wasn't quite with it enough to stop the roll of her hips against his hand. "Absolute tease, just... unhh, you wonderful man, again."

Something in her wanted to protest at the fact that she is actually pleading with Richard Castle, but every time she was about to snap at him, he pressed his thumbnail against the side of her clit, _hard, _and her brain was wiped clean of anything but how much she wanted him to do that again. And again. And again.

Beckett dipped her head to his neck and sucked the salt off his skin, teasing the tendons between her teeth and she really had no idea what to do with her hands because there was so many obscenely dirty things she wanted to do to him all at once and they were overloading her brain.

"You missed me," he whispered, sing-song, his breath tickling hot through her hair.

"No." the word isn't quite as firm as she'd hoped it would be; too pitchy, too breathy, too revealing. Damn it.

"You did." the hand that was not currently occupying itself in increasingly addictive ways between her legs slid up her body to roughly palm at a breast, pinching her nipple between two fingers. She hissed, tonguing his earlobe.

His forefinger slipped inside her up to the first joint, barely there. God, she wanted him, wanted him wanted him wanted him...

"Please?" Beckett murmured, instantly wishing she could swallow the words back down, but they were already hanging in the warm air of the room.

"Say it," He husked. She could resist, be stubborn, put up a fight, but he'd just keep torturing her one slow stroke at a time.

"Fine. I _missed _you, Castle."

He moved as if to slide a second finger into her, but she snagged his hand, tilting her face up to his.

"If I wanted fingers, I'd use my own. You, Castle. Now." She knew he tended to stick by his ridiculously chivalrous 'ladies first' rule, but she really fucking needed him.

He shifted over her, pinned her wrists to the sheets on either side of her head with his hands as her legs slid up to wrap around him, pull him in. Castle was just barely where she needed him, throbbing against her clit, but she jerked her hips up at the same time he lowered his and he was inside her faster than either of them expected.

"Ohhhh." He groaned against her jaw, the hot scrape of stubble against her skin accompanying every movement his body made. Beckett wasn't sure how she'd managed to spend four years in the company of this man without sleeping with him, but apparently putting it off for as long as she'd done had its consequences. Now that she'd started, she couldn't stop.

_Oh my god. I am an addict. I am addicted to Castle. Maybe I should- mmm, wait, nevermind. _

His hands burned hot against her hips, fingers splaying over the curves as he held her in place, the easy pressure of him filling her, driving her. There was an ache where his clever thumb had been rubbing just moments before, though, so she pulled a hand out of his grasp and slipped it between their bodies, pressed down where she wanted it.

Castle glanced down as the curve of her wrist bumped his stomach. As he realised what she was doing, his eyes snapped up to meet hers, and she stopped breathing. His eyes were twin oceans, stormy, and his pupils had dilated to swallow the irises. He looked dangerous. And he was hers. She lifted her fingers to his mouth, let him suck them between his lips, lave over the pads of her index finger with his tongue, before she slipped them back between her legs.

"Harder." Beckett found herself commanding, feeling like someone from a really bad porn movie, but it _was_ what she wanted. Harder. Faster. All of him. Always. Forever.

"I don't know, can you handle it?" he smirked, teasing.

"I think I'm _handling it_," she gestured to the rubbing of her fingers between them, "Quite well, actually."

And then all of a sudden the teasing Castle was gone, her leg was being pulled up and up and up, and he was hitting a spot inside her that made her throw her head back on the pillow and oh god oh yes right there please-

She wasn't going to last, wasn't even going to try, so she found her clit again, pressed the flat of her fingers against it and rubbed hard. He lowered his mouth to her neck, found that little spot right where it met her shoulders, and kissed there, feathery kisses that were such a delicious contrast to the furious pace he was thrusting at.

"More, more, more." she'd thought she was chanting it in her head, but apparently she was saying it out loud because he oblidged, hitching her leg up higher, slamming his hips against hers to the point that it was almost rough. Mm. Castle being rough with her. She _liked _that.

It was as if he'd heard her thoughts (Or maybe she was still thinking out loud) because he placed his lips over the sweet spot on her neck and bit down. Hard.

Castle, sweaty, naked Castle who smelled like sex, was biting her, pinning her to the bed, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises.

She fell apart, slippery fingers sliding over her clit, her entire body pulsing around him as the sheer force of her climax swept her away. It was everything they'd talked about over the phone, everything she'd missed about him, all at once, all over, everywhere. He grunted, one last thrust and then he was gone too, swearing her name into her slick skin.

He rolled over to lie beside her, and she pulled his head down to rest on her chest, her heart thumping under his ear. Beckett shuffled back against the pillows and stroked his hair lightly away from his face, twirled a lock around one of her fingers.

She felt him smile against her as a hand slid over her stomach.

"I adore you, you know that?" Kate found herself murmuring, thumbing a slight wrinkle on his forehead.

"Why, Detective, are you getting all sentimental?"

"Just honest." she admitted.

"I'm glad we had that phone call. I'm glad it started everything."

"Castle, everything was already started, we just didn't know it."

"True. But that call did somehow provoke you into ordering me into a cab back to the loft, where we then proceeded to-"

"I _know_ what we proceeded to do." she grouched with a smile, a smile that he knew she heard in her voice.

"You know, I never managed to write that alley scene into the book." Castle mused.

"Maybe you need a little more inspiration. Where did we leave off, last time?"

"I do believe he was sucking on_ that_ spot," he traced a finger over the teeth marks on her shoulder.

"And she was pressed up against the wall."

"I do believe he would bite down, because somehow he knows that she likes that-"

She let herself fall back into the story his words spun inside her head.

Hopefully it would be a nice, _long _story.

There was always room for elaboration.

* * *

><p>Well, here we are. This is the end. *insert funeral music here*<p>

Thank you very much for reviewing :3


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